


Two Worlds, One Family

by sonofaladiesman



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, EXCEPT NO DESTRUCTION OF VULCAN, Hell no, M/M, disney theme, john harrison as: not khan, like tarzan but star trek, reboot universe, sort of like a tarzan au?, tos kirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:43:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofaladiesman/pseuds/sonofaladiesman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I AM EMBARRASSED AND ASHAMED OF MYSELF. This is probably going to have a lot of chapters and I hate myself. Basically a Star Trek version of Tarzan, inspired by Phil Collins and THAT ONE GODDAMNED SONG and how GREAT IT FITS WITH SPOCK'S LIFE, but anyway. Jim has been stranded on a little-known planet populated by ape-like creatures since he was 14, only for his distress beacon to be uncovered by Amanda Grayson six years later. Basically Jim is Tarzan (only, you know, more Jim-like) and Spock is Jane. There will be emotions. oh and John Harrison is Clayton, because I needed a bad guy and who better to symbolize white imperialism than Bennedict Cumberbatch as John Harrison? please do not be offended it's just...Tarzan...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Son of Man

“Are you telling me that a distress beacon on a class M planet has been ignored for six years, because no one thought to _check_ for _one life sign_?” Amanda Grayson glares at the quaking ensign in front of her.

“Ambassador, what's this I hear about you terrifying my crewmen?” Captain Pike sweeps into the room, another nervous technician trailing along behind him. The blonde woman, formiddably clad in traditional Vulcan garb, turns her fury on the captain.

“This is the first time anyone thought to check for signs of human life on this apparently VERY INHABITED planet, full of semi-intelligent life forms similar in their evolution and genetic makeup to Earth's great apes, and the site of a shuttle crash six years ago. When did it become Federation policy to ignore--”

“I see your point,” Pike interrupts. Amanda stares at him, speechless. “But you need to realize that no one has felt the need to explore this planet, seeing as superficial scans tell us most of what we need to know. Beaming down, when the planet's inhabitants are so early in their evolution, would be a needless breach of the Prime Directive.” He braces himself for the oncoming storm. Amanda Grayson is a very intelligent person; she is also a very emotional person, and her years of living with her husband on Vulcan have undoubtedly left her few opportunities to get involved in the heated debates that she was so famous for on Earth. Her husband was formerly the Vulcan ambassador on Earth, but when the two married and had their son, they returned to Vulcan to raise him in his father's culture. Even now, Pike can see her eyes light up with the fire he recognizes from telescreens.

“Prime Directive be damned. Pike, be _logical--_ ” she starts, but then she pauses and stands a little straighter. “Captain, I would like to express my displeasure at the thought that there is a citizen of the Federation on that planet who has been awaiting rescue for _six years_. Analyzing the serial number of the distress beacon has led your technicians to believe that it belongs to a shuttle that they, in turn, have traced to the _Pacific_ , a ship that, as you know, exploded due to unknown causes while returning survivors of the Tarsus IV massacre to Earth. _That_ is the person who we should be rescuing. When I asked how a distress beacon could have gone ignored for so long, _this_ person said that 'none of the other ships passing by felt the need to go beyond a superficial scan, and we shouldn't either'. Pardon me for being...concerned.” Pike frowns. She definitely has a point; and if Amanda Grayson hadn't yelled at his technicians until they'd scanned for human life, they wouldn't have found out that there was anyone down there. He gives a dismissive nod to the ensign in question, and xe rushes from the room, close to tears. Pike feels a little bit bad for xir, but he can't help but agree with Grayson's logic.

“We'll send down a rescue party as soon as I call a meeting to prepare the away team. It needs to be a quick search-and-extract mission, no exploring. We can't interfere with the natives' development.” Grayson nods, accepting his proposal.

“Captain, as an ambassador to Earth with experience in working with Tarsus IV survivors, I would like to formally request a place on the away team.” Pike winces, considering his options.

“Ambassador, I don't think I can honor that request. You're on my ship so that you can get back from the colony on Deluvia as quickly and as safely as possible. I cannot risk the safety of an ambassador under my protection.” Pike prepares himself for her argument, but instead hears another voice.

“I also have experience with the rehabilitation of those affected by the Tarsus IV massacre, and while my mother is highly valued by the Federation and currently is your responsibility, I am traveling in her company as an individual free from political obligation. Perhaps I could be of assistance on this mission.” Pike turns to see Amanda's son, Spock, has been in the room the whole time. He hadn't even noticed, what with the arguing and the shouting and the carrying-on, that the Vulcan had entered the room. Pike looks at Amanda and sees that she is anticipating his reply.

“I suppose,” Pike says, resigned, “that you could come along. What was your name again?”

“Spock,” the young man replies. Though his tone is void of emotion, his eyes betray a certain glimmer of interest that hints at his half-human lineage. Pike just knows he's going to regret this.

…

 

Spock struggles in his attempt to anticipate what the lone human down on the planet must be like. Perhaps the individual has forgotten human speech. Many of the Tarsus IV survivors were young children; perhaps this individual has no memory of humans whatsoever. Spock remembers his first introduction to humans other than his mother; it was in the wake of the Tarsus IV massacre, when their family returned to Earth for a summit on possible future means of preventing another such tragedy. He remembers his first impression of humans was that they were loud, emotional, and extremely dismissive of boundaries, particularly in regards to personal space. The survivor likely had not experienced that familiar human closeness in quite some time, and Spock knows from his study of Post-Traumatic Stress in humans that a lack of such comfort and familiarity on top of a traumatic experience could not be healthy. He thinks again about the human on the planet, and illogically feels...sympathy.

 


	2. The Power To Be Strong, The Wisdom To Be Wise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Harrison appears! He's a jerk! Also sloth-bug! and JIM

Everything on the planet is green. The plants are somewhat similar to Terran flora, at least in their use of chlorophyll. The planet is also just humid enough to be somewhat uncomfortable to Spock, which is completely logical, seeing as he is used to Vulcan's hot and arid climate. The entirety of the planet's land is heavily forested, and one lieutenant on the away team compares it to earth's rainforest. She even makes some witty political commentary about deforestation, but Spock is paying little attention to her, because he is distracted by the giant, orange animal crossing slowly in front of them. It has three insect-like eyes on either side of its head, which is currently far too close for Spock's liking.

“That is probably the most funny looking thing I've seen since...I don't know when.” Spock looks at the young lieutenant standing next to him. He is obviously on security detail, as Spock can tell from his red uniform. The man continues, but Spock has a strange aversion to his voice. He sounds uncomfortably persuasive. “It looks like a cross between a fly and a giant sloth.”

“An interesting observation,” Spock replies.

“John Harrison,” the man says, by way of introduction. “You must be the Ambassador's son.”

“My name is Spock,” Spock says, still looking at the creature. “It appears, by the standards of Terran animals, to be an herbivore.”

“You can't trust that, though,” Harrison adds. “Never know. Herbivores might have fangs on this planet or something.”

“How close are we to the location of the beacon?” Spock asks, turning to the away team's leader, Lieutenant Commander Garcia. She is kneeling in front of something that Spock can't quite classify as plant or animal. As head of the science department, she is already collecting samples to bring back to the _Enterprise_.

“We're fairly close,” she replies, distracted.

“Remember, Commander, search and rescue.” Harrison points out, hand still on his phaser.

“What do you call this?” Garcia waves her tricorder triumphantly. Harrison gives her a blank and somewhat cold look. “Burn residue. From fire. I doubt the life forms on this planet are sophisticated enough to be burning things in a controlled fashion,” she explains. “Our lost survivor is definitely near here.”

Spock follows behind the rescue party, lagging behind somewhat. He knows that because he has his own phaser (kindly given to him by Pike at the insistence of his mother) he can most likely defend himself if necessary, and he is within eyesight of Harrison, so he believes that stopping to investigate some of the local fauna will not be an issue. As he walks, he starts to feel as if someone is watching him. Shrugging off illogical superstition, Spock ignores it. Then he sees something off the path that the away team has cut through the underbrush and stops short.

“...Harrison?” he calls, seeing the security officer's retreating form. He sees the officer stop. Harrison turns back and waves at Spock, and Spock gesticulates at the opening in the trees that he's standing in front of. Relying on Harrison to notify the rest of the party that Spock has spotted something, he steps closer to the clearing, in which he can see a makeshift and well-worn shelter, the door of which appears to be that of a Federation shuttle. Then a twig cracks behind him and Spock whirls around to face whatever is sneaking up behind him, and is shocked.

“Are you real?” asks the perfectly healthy and completely flawless specimen of humanity before him.

“What?” Spock is finding it difficult to speak. He searches his mind for a reason, and decides to blame the humidity. The survivor steps closer.

“Are. You. Real?” he asks, very slowly. “Or am I finally starting to see things?”

“I...” Spock pauses for a moment to collect himself. “My name is Spock. I have come with a rescue party from the starship _Enterprise_. We're...we're here to...” Spock is stumbling over his words in a very un-Vulcan fashion, and he is hoping that it has nothing to do with the human's very muscular and tan chest, because that would be absolutely inappropriate and completely irresponsible and he can _control his emotions_.

“Well it's about time,” the survivor replies. “My name is Jim Kirk and I've been here basically forever, so...yeah.”

“Jim Kirk?” Spock vaguely remembers something about... “Your mother is Winona Kirk?” Jim nods. “Captain Pike...that is, the captain of the _Enterprise_...I believe they are friends.”

“Listen, buddy, I'd love to stick around and chat, but now seems like a good time to tell you that before it rains these plants tend to exude gases that are going to make you etremely dizzy.” Spock acknowledges that he is, indeed, feeling somewhat unusal. At least, he starts to do so, but by the time he processes that fact, the world is starting to go dark, and the last thing he sees is Jim and his ridiculously toned torso and his very concerned hazel eyes.


	3. Look to the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPOCK IS A FAINTING DAMSEL AND guess what this planet is hella weird, jim is a super genius despite his lack of formal non-spider-monkey education, and acid rain happens.

Spock awakens some time later to the sound of incessant drumming. When he opens his eyes, he realizes that he is in the shelter he happened to spot earlier. The drumming sound is rain. Jim is frowning down at him.

“So, it's raining, which sucks,” he says, and Spock sits up, confused.

“Where—how long was I unconscious? Where is the rest of the away team? How have they not found us yet?” He looks at his surroundings in consternation. “Is that... _is it night?_ ”

“So, thing about the rain,” Jim says cheerfully. “It's slightly...corrosive to humanoid tissues. No big deal. Just, uh...not very fun. You guys happened to find me in the middle of monsoon season, which was kind of dumb, 'cause there is usually only a few hours of sun between each downpour, and your away team—which basically totally abandoned you, by the way; like, do they hate you? This is an unexplored planet. Believe me, I know. Isn't that against Starfleet protocol?”

“My away team,” Spock prompts.

“Oh. Well, it was about to start raining when you found me, so I just got you inside and...well, I don't really know how you were reacting to the fumes, because you're not human, and you were kind of feverish for a while there. You may have noticed by now that I took the liberty of...y'know...” Spock does not know. But he has a fairly good guess, because his shirt is in the corner, along with his boots.

“Oh.” He wonders if he should be upset, but decides that since he was unconscious and would have possibly died that there was implied consent. “Go on.”

“Well, the rest of your team figured out pretty quick about the acid rain, before I could get to them; at least, I heard some shouting and then 'five to beam up', so I'm assuming they're back on the ship.” Jim smirks. “You are very bad at rescuing people. I've been here for six years and it has been absolute  _ass_.”

“You're very...talkative,” Spock stops short of saying 'eloquent' because it definitely doesn't fit, “for someone who has been alone on a primitive planet for six years.”

“ _Primitive?_ Damn, you're all operating on some REALLY bad intel. The monkeys...well, they're more like spider-monkey-ant things...they kind of have this, like, clicking language. They've got societies and everything. They don't like me very much—think I'm uncivilized and not hairy enough—but they're generally fairly friendly. They live in communities that are fairly similar to what Earth's ideal Communism would have looked like if it had worked out before we started blowing each other up. No space travel, though, but that's more because they don't have any desire to tangle with whatever they think lives in space.” Spock stares at him in shock.

“Am I to take it that you, you—communicate with them? You learned their language?”

“I've been here for six years,” Jim replies, looking at him blankly. “What would you have me do, talk to myself?” They are interrupted before Spock can explain that he was expressing surprise and admiration rather than disdain, because a pale green creature covered in bristly hairs with what looks like opposable claws swings down in front of the door, and Jim moves the shuttle door out of the way. It clicks at Jim in what Spock assumes is greeting, and Jim clicks back, which Spock finds extremely impressive.

“Xe says the rain should stop in a day or two. Don't freak out; I have a stockpile of these fruits to last at least four days, so since there's two of us, we'll be fine. Oh, and this is--” Jim makes a clicking noise. Spock looks at the creature. It repeats Jim's clicking noise, and lowers its bristly round body closer to the ground, with its ten furry legs supporting it. Spock sort of nods in greeting, and Jim clicks at the creature again. Spock watches as they have an entire conversation, astonished, before the creature raises itself again on its long legs and vanishes into the forest.

“So,” Jim says finally, turning back to Spock. “You're...Vulcan, right?”

“That is correct,” Spock replies.

“Cool,” Jim says. “I haven't seen any humanoid, much less one that speaks Federation Standard, in over five years, so...” he trails off, just looking at Spock. Spock almost wants to blush under what is obviously appreciative scrutiny; no doubt Jim is pleased to see him merely because he is humanoid, and here to rescue him. He scolds himself internally for his inability to control his emotions in his weakened state earlier, and tries not to think about how years surviving on a jungle planet have made the young man extremely fit.

“You are the sole survivor of the crash,” Spock observes, filling the silence.

“There were two others in the shuttle when we landed,” Jim replies. “A Starfleet ensign, and a volunteer working with the relief effort. We were one of the last shuttles, and we landed okay, but we landed in the dry season. We hadn't figured out the language by then, so we didn't know about the rain, and when the monsoon season started...when the rain started, they weren't near shelter. I was lucky. One of the...you know, those guys—it's hard to translate their proper nouns to Standard—dragged me into a cave. I thought xe was going to eat me or something, but xe actually made sure I survived the rainy months. That's when I learned how to speak to them. They see me as a kind of mascot, I guess--at least, this group does.” Jim clicks again--then pauses. "I guess I should think up a name for that one that's translatable to standard. Er--the closest sound that means anything like the meaning of *click* is Ma, I think. Ma sort of adopted me."

They sit in silence for a long, drawn-out moment. Finally, Spock speaks.

“You are very brave, to have survived. You must have been very young when you arrived.” He says it quietly, and glances away. It is difficult offering emotional support, because emotions are not logical, but the logicality of offering emotional support confuses him.

“I was fourteen,” Jim says softly. “I don't...it wasn't that hard.” His gaze hardens. “I was used to trying to survive, by then. What with the whole...you know.”

Spock looks into Jim's eyes, and something in them is so intense it sends a shiver down his spine.

“Here,” Jim says, tossing him his shirt. “Despite the fact that it's unreasonably hot most of the time, it can get kind of cold at night.” Spock takes it and pulls it over his head, but he's somewhat embarrassed that his involuntary action was noticeable. He glances back at Jim.

“It is regrettable that you have had to wait so long for us to find you; no doubt you are disappointed that it will take longer because of the rain.”

“It's okay. I've been watching that sky for a long time. It's just nice to have something up there. I can wait a few more days.” He smiles ruefully. “It's not like they'll leave...especially when they figure out that dilithium crystals grow naturally on pretty much every rocky surface on the planet.” Spock stares.

“Would you repeat that?”

“Dilithium,” Jim replies. “It showed up on Eva's—the ensign, the one who died—it showed up on her scanner. It's everywhere.”

 


	4. No One to Take Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BEING ON A DESERTED PLANET IS LONELY. Also Spock still is somewhat of a damsel. and about the dilithium from the last chapter...yeah

Spock's communicator is not working. He is stranded on a planet where it rains a corrosive compound that will not kill any of the plant or animal life native to the area, but that will dissolve him if he steps out of his current shelter; and his communicator is not working.

“It's atmospheric interference,” Jim offers, from his place on the opposite end of the shelter. “It's the storm clouds that do it, I think. I'm pretty sure it's why no ships have seen the shuttle's beacon until now; maybe your ship is the first to come by during a cloudless period. That communicator isn't going to work, but don't worry, it'll be fine.” Somehow he can tell that Spock is frustrated, which is unusual, because Spock's carefully regulated actions and facial expressions are devoid of emotion. Because he is repressing his irritation. Very well. Spock finally places the communicator gently on the ground next to him, and turns his attention to Jim.

“Your beacon was detectable by passing ships. They did not see your life sign.” Jim's eyes flash, and Spock realizes that what he said upset him, but isn't sure exactly why.

“Are you telling me that they _knew_ the shuttle crashed here, saw the beacon, and just _didn't think to check?_ ” Jim's eyes glint dangerously. “When did the first ship detect our beacon? Was it within three months of the crash? Two people could be dead because they didn't think we were a _fucking_ priority?” He turns away from Spock and takes a deep breath, and in doing so, reveals a spatter-pattern scar on his shoulder. Spock assumes it must be from an encounter with the rain. Finally he turns back. “Sorry. That's not your fault. Are you even Starfleet?” Jim asks, obviously wanting to change the subject.

“I am currently a cadet at the Academy,” Spock replies. “However, all students are granted a generally two-month long period of leave twice each Earth year.”

“So it's summer.”

“...Yes.” Spock pauses. “My mother is an ambassador to Earth, and she had a small diplomatic mission at the human colony near Deluvia III. She expressed a desire for me to accompany her, so I did.”

“Can I ask...why did you even stop? Who checked? Why did you find me, if everyone else couldn't be bothered?” Jim is obviously very upset, but Spock doesn't believe that there is anything he can do about it, so he answers.

“My mother found the idea that the beacon had been ignored and that the planet had not been scanned for specifically human life to be...negligent. She was very persuasive.” Jim contemplates the new information for a moment, and then looks at Spock again. He is strikingly attractive—Spock has to admit it; it isn't an _emotion_ , it's a _biological reaction—_ in a way that makes it difficult to look directly at him, but Spock also finds it extremely difficult to look _away_ for any long period of time.

“Did you agree with her?” he asks, and Spock is startled by a moment of certain clarity, a sort of stillness inside him which makes it strangely difficult to breathe. He waits until a coherent sentence forms before he can speak.

“I had no thoughts on the matter,” he says quietly. “But...I am... It is fortunate that you were found.”

“I forgot about the whole thing with Vulcans and feelings,” Jim says, laughing. “Don't you have opinions, though?”

“We support conclusions and actions that are logical, and do not support those that are illogical, unless all attempt at logical assessment has failed, which it very rarely does.” Spock is speaking without any sort of tone, because while he is reminding himself of the importance of logic, he is also struggling with how illogically charismatic Jim is. He will undoubtedly need to meditate later.

“This is going to be a long, logical night,” Jim sighs, looking out through the opening of the shelter. He replaces the shuttle door from its open position. “Try to get some sleep. It's pretty late.” Spock wants to make a statement about how for him it should be in the middle of the afternoon, due to the difference of time in the starship, but he refrains.

“Vulcans can function with far less sleep than humans. However, I will use the time to meditate.” Jim shrugs and grins, shaking his head. Standing, he pulls a large animal pelt from a heretofore unnoticed storage area between the roof and the woven leaves that cover it and protect them from the rain. The pelt is bright orange, and Spock assumes it comes from one of the orange slothlike creatures like the one he saw earlier.

Spock tries to meditate, but feels strangely distracted, unable to achieve a full trance. After a few minutes, he opens his eyes slowly, to see Jim, fast asleep, displaying the frown of one who does not dream well. Spock leans forward, peering out the shuttle door's cracked porthole into the sky. The _Enterprise_ is there, waiting, and on it he imagines his mother, her forehead creased with worry. He sighs heavily, knowing that she will undoubtedly have a very emotional reaction when he is finally returned to her, be it positive or negative. In response to this one small sound, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye, and looks towards Jim, who has woken.

“Forgive me,” Spock says softly. “I had not considered the idea that one would have to wake at the slightest sound in such an environment. You are most likely upset at being awakened so soon--”

“It's fine,” Jim replies. He looks past Spock, up at the sky. “I still can hardly believe you're really here,” he says at last, before turning his attention to Spock. “I haven't...” He sighs. “I know Vulcans aren't big on physical contact, with the whole mind-reading thing, but it's...kind of a big deal for humans, and I just...I...” Spock cannot control the urge to reach out to him. He strengthens his mental shields, tells himself it is logical, and puts his hand over Jim's.

“It is understandable,” he hears himself saying, even though both of their hands are trembling, and Spock has no idea why. Jim looks away, but his hand tightens in Spock's.

“Thank you,” he says softly, and Spock merely nods, unable to speak.

Jim is the first to withdraw his hand. Spock believes that Jim was partially right; though the night has been incredibly illogical thus far, it is likely that it will seem quite long.

 

…

 

“You mean to say that this planet has a ridiculously huge amount of naturally occuring dilithium crystals?” Harrison whistled at the impressive readings. “That's...wow.”

“Yes. Very exciting. Harrison, do you know what's _not_ exciting? THAT YOU LOST OUR AMBASSADOR'S ONLY SON. THE ONLY HUMAN-VULCAN HYBRID IN EXISTENCE.” Pike realizes that he's shouting in the lieutenant's face, but he doesn't really care. He's just passing on the delightful interaction he had with Amanda earlier. “HE IS DOWN THERE ON THAT PLANET, _ALIVE,_ NO THANKS TO YOU. You're _so_ fucking lucky the survivor found him before _something else did._ ” Harrison stands at attention, looking at the ground.

“I realize that, Captain. I thought he was behind me. He kept stopping to look at random things along the way, despite the countless times I reminded the entire team that no one was to stop, and--”

“I get it. But there's no excuse for that. You were completely irresponsible. I doubt that you'll be leading an away team for a long time, _not_ just because of _my_ views on your losing an extremely valuable Starfleet cadet—do you know how much Starfleet has invested in him? It's a big number—but because the Lady Amanda will make sure that you are never in a command position _again._ Is it clear to you now, what this lapse of judgment has cost you?” Pike watched as the lieutenant's face darkened.

“Yes, Captain,” Harrison replies. “Please convey my sincerest apologies to the Ambassador.”

Pike nods, and turns away, but he could swear that the look on the man's face was more fury than embarrassment.

 


	5. Take My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I JUST  
> the whole tarzan hand comparison scene was just TOO PERFECT. JUST.

Jim wakes to the sound of rain for perhaps the billionth time. But now it's different. Now, he's not alone. He wasn't alone before, he knows, what with Ma and the others looking out for him, but they could never really fill the void Jim felt knowing he was the only one of his kind on the entire planet. He looks over at the Vulcan to see him still in the middle of his meditation, eyes closed, sitting in the middle of the shelter. He can't help but feel...elated. Of course, the other inhabitants of the planet are _people_ , but it's not the same as having a living, breathing humanoid, with ears and fingers and feet and a human-ish face. In fact, Spock's face is much more human than Jim would expect, and with his eyes closed, completely relaxed, he seems much softer than he did when he was awake. Jim, feeling a bit strange about spying on his companion's meditation cycle, clears his throat loudly.

Spock's eyes flicker open, and he is instantly alert.

“Good morning,” Jim says, beaming. “It's still raining, so there's that. But here,” he says, tossing Spock one of the planet's native fruits. “I don't know how Vulcan metabolisms work or if you need to eat anytime soon, but something about that weird plant gas always makes me extremely hungry. These fruit taste kind of like fish, which is not extremely pleasant, coming from fruit; but I've gotten used to them, so they can't be that bad.” Spock eyes the spiky orange sphere suspiciously.

“Where did you get them? I do not recall seeing any fruits such as these in the time that I spent surveying the native plant life.” Jim shrugs.

“They might actually be some sort of fungus. I'm not sure. They grow in caves, and they have seeds like a pear or an apple, but I have no idea how to classify them scientifically. I was always obsessed with engineering and math, not taxonomy. It's the taste that's the real puzzler, though.” Spock seems to agree with him, from the interesting faces he's making while chewing. 

“How long did you say the rain would last?” Jim is finding the dainty way Spock's picking at the fruit completely hilarious, but he tries not to let it show. He wouldn't want to offend the first familiar face he's seen in years.

“Another couple of hours, maybe another day,” Jim replies. “Up on your ship, they've probably got better equipment to predict how long you'll be down here; all I know is that even in the height of monsoon season there's always a refractory period between storms. It's usually only a few hours, but it's long enough to find food, or beam up to your ship, in this case.” The fact that he's finally going _home_ hits him then--wherever that is. Earth? He can barely remember--as far as he knows, Earth is his mother laughing and his father and brother arguing, his cousins--it's like he touched a hot stove in his mind and he flinches. Spock raises a single eyebrow, which seems to be his default expression. Spock is here and Jim is not alone anymore, and that's all that matters.

Tarsus was one thing. Jim can't help but realize that without that one battle to survive, he might not have survived this one. For the first few years, he was angry. He thought it wasn't fair, to survive a eugenics program, to try so hard and lose so much—and to go from being rescued to being stranded alone, with no sign of help, and only a found family that mostly saw him as a pleasant oddity. It was hard, thinking of all the survivors who'd been on the _Pacific_ with him, all of the colonists who had died. He still had no idea how the rest had fared--if Dana--if any of his family had even made it onto the ship.

“By the way,” he says softly, as Spock continues to attempt to logic his meal to death, “I've been meaning to ask you. Am I the _only_ survivor from the _Pacific_? Did anyone else make it?” Jim pointedly does not ask for names. Spock looks at him, his face schooled into an expression of emotionless neutrality, but his eyes betray a certain sympathy.

“I believe that some...twenty or so survived,” Spock replies. “It is...hard to tell. Many were already in critical condition at the time they were taken from Tarsus IV, and though many escaped in shuttles like you did, the time it took for them to be recovered proved fatal in many cases.”

“What caused the explosion? Do you know?” Jim had been prepared to be the _only_ survivor. The knowledge that he was not the only one was comforting, even if the number of the dead dwarfed the number of those that had been saved. "Were...were there any other Kirks rescued?"

“I did not do much research on the _Pacific_ disaster before this mission. However, from what I learned in time to join the away team, the cause of the explosion has still not been ascertained. I regret not knowing the names of the survivors.” Jim frowns. Spock, meanwhile, has figured out how to pick out the seeds lining the inside of the fruit, and when he tries one, he seems actually pretty impressed.

“Do you actually... _like_ that?” Jim asks, surprised.

“It is not necessarily unpleasant. It is not particularly pleasant, but it is...adequate.” Jim has a feeling that means Spock totally digs it. That's pretty hilarious, too, but Jim's not sure if thinking Spock's taste in food is funny is somehow xenophobic, so he just smirks. Feeling the need to change the subject, he glances up through the porthole again, seeing the ship's lights miles away though the sky, barely visible through the clouds.

“So, your mother must be pretty important on Vulcan for the _Enterprise_ to be taking her to diplomatic missions on a small planet like Deluvia III,” Jim says, eager to make conversation. There is a little quirk in Spock's facial expression that makes Jim regret his choice of topic.

“Though Deluvia III's economic output has tripled since you landed here, you are...somewhat correct. However, you seem to be speaking under the impression that my mother is Vulcan. If she were, undoubtedly it would be unusual for her to use a Federation starship as transport. She is human.” Jim looks at Spock in surprise.

“So...you're...oh. Okay. That's... Wow.” Jim blushes. “Sorry, that's weird, I don't mean...like...sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize. There is no offense where none is taken.” Spock, however, does not seem to find it very 'cool', and Jim knows that it's not exactly okay to be all wide-eyed and excited about someone's genetic lineage. In fact, it's kind of xenophobic. Jim is pretty embarrassed. He's just about to embarrass himself further by trying to find a way to apologize when there is a loud crashing sound outside the shelter. Immediately, he is alert and on his feet, but not before Spock. Jim is surprised to note his companion has risen to his feet and gotten between Jim and the doorway before Jim was even done standing up all the way. Spock is still angled towards Jim, though, and his eyes are cool and calculating.

“That was fast. What are you protecting me from, exactly?” Jim asks, a little bit annoyed. _Who rescued who, here?_ he thinks, frowning.

“Vulcans are three times stronger than humans. It is logical...” Spock trails off when he sees Jim's expression.

“And you've been on this planet how long, exactly?” Jim crosses his arms in annoyance. “Whatever it is out there—and it is most likely a falling tree, by the way—do you really think your super-Vulcan strength is any use if you have no idea what it is and how potentially dangerous it could be?” Spock's eyes flicker to the porthole on the shuttle door before he settles down again in a sitting position.

“Your logic is sound,” he says calmly.

“You bet it is,” Jim replies, sitting down in front of him. “So...I don't mean to be insensitive, so let me know if I'm being in any way offensive, but you're technically the first humanoid person I've seen in six years. Like, I haven't...” Jim doesn't want to say 'touched anyone' because that just sounds creepy, even in his head; “I haven't had contact with anyone in what seems like forever.” Spock raises a single eyebrow and, seeming to know what Jim means, holds out his hand.

 

…

 

It is illogical to panic. _It is illogical to panic_. Panic is an emotion. Spock chooses not to feel it. Instead he strengthens his shields and holds out his hand to Jim, because Jim has been alone so long, and Jim is just so... _appealing,_ illogically so, and Spock knows that it is logical for a human to desire physical contact, and there is no reason for Spock not to offer it. Hands mean something very different to humans. Spock knows enough about humans to understand that culturally, due to his heritage, hands do not necessarily have to be....private....for him, specifically. He is Vulcan, and he has been raised Vulcan, but his mother had placed extreme emphasis on the idea that he could be both Vulcan and 'kind', supposedly in the human way. 

“I must remind you that Vulcans are touch-telepaths. However, I have erected mental shields that will prevent me from hearing your thoughts.” His hand is going to start shaking any minute now...but then Jim takes his hand, and Spock is struggling to remember how to breathe. 

“You have really long fingers,” Jim says, obviously just thankful that Spock is being somewhat friendly. “I was going to ask for a hug, but this is cool too. I understand Vulcans aren't really huggers.”

“That is true,” Spock replies, his voice somewhat strained. He hopes Jim doesn't notice. “I, personally, have never been partial to...” his voice trails off as Jim puts their palms together, comparing the size of their hands. It seems sort of...intimate, but Spock isn't letting it be like that, because to do so would be illogical, because Jim is just reaching out to the first humanoid he has seen in six years. There is nothing else. Spock is attracted to him but that is unimportant. Jim smiles, making eye contact over their entwined hands, and Spock schools his face into an emotionless mask. 

They spend a few more agonizing minutes like that, and then Jim withdraws and turns to the window.

“The rain will be over soon,” he says softly. Spock does not reply. He is not sure if he is able to speak. “Hey, can I ask you an awkward question?” Jim asks, turning back, his hazel eyes twinkling. Spock is not sure he wants to hear it.

“You can. However, whether or not I will reply depends upon the question.” Spock has drawn his knees to his chest, and he glances out the window at the rain.

“Well, I haven't seen a reflective surface in a long time. The only fresh water here is in plants—there are these pineapple-looking things that filter the acid out of the rain—and the other water is all in marshes, and they're so acidic that it's better just to stay away from them. So...I kind of have no idea what I look like. But I have this sneaking suspicion,” Jim says, grinning, “And I was just wondering...am I hot?” Spock raises a single eyebrow in confusion.

“'Hot,' Jim?” He knows _exactly_ what Jim's talking about and he does _not_ want to answer.

“I was kind of a huge nerd when I was younger. Not the kind of person anyone thought of as attractive. But it's been a while, and I can sort of vaguely see myself in some slightly reflective surfaces, and I think I might be kind of attractive. By human standards, of course.”

“Personally,” Spock starts, hesitating, “I would say...”

“I was kind of joking, but also kind of not joking, so feel free to answer that, but you don't have to,” Jim says, and Spock can already feel the green flush rising in his cheeks.

“I do not _disapprove_ of your physical appearance,” Spock says, trying not to mumble. Mumbling in this instance would be an emotional display of embarrassment, which is illogical, because Spock has nothing to be embarrassed about. Ever.

“So...” Jim apparently hasn't noticed Spock's discomfort and is obviously searching for another topic of conversation. Spock thinks it fortunate that he has not spoken to anyone for such a long time, because it will make Spock seem less awkward. Of course, Spock is not awkward. He is merely...not familiar with human social norms...when confronted with such a situation. 'Awkward' is a _feeling,_ and feelings can be controlled.

“You are quite social, for someone who has not spoken with another humanoid in so long,” Spock remarks, glancing at the ground. It's not that he doesn't wish to make eye contact with Jim, it's just that...his eyes are so...

“Well, those guys...I really wish their name for themselves could translate—it's two clicks with crab hands, if that means anything—they're fun to talk to, sometimes, if they're not talking about philosophy, in which case sit the fuck down because you're in for a long ride." Jim smirks. Spock inclines his head in indication that he understands the joke. "I haven't been bored or deprived of society. I've just been dropped in a foreign culture and left to my own devices.” Jim frowns. “I mean, they're not all very fond of me, but that one...Ma, I guess...it's really weird to be calling them by the wrong type of sound. Ma and xir group like me, but there's a group over the mountain that thinks I'm aligned with some sort of negative force from outer space. I still haven't figured out how to translate it properly, but--”

“I have a friend at the academy who would be most interested in the language of the creatures,” Spock replies. “Her area of expertise is xenolinguistics. She will be pleased to hear that the beings that live here have such an interesting form of communication.”

“Let's just call them...Clickers? Does that work? Wow, it really is strange going back to Standard after just clicking all the time.”

“...the Clickers...” Spock finds the name somewhat unusual, but he goes along with it; “Previously, it was believed that this planet was inhabited by species not developed enough for complicated thought, so I am surprised to find that the Clickers are so advanced.”

“Previously it was believed that this planet had no human life, but look how that assumption turned out,” Jim replies. He smiles and Spock makes eye contact only to resolutely assure himself that he _can_. At that moment, the rain stops.

 

 


	6. Strangers Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An away mission beams down! NUMBER ONE! CUTE ANDORIAN OFFICERS DISCOVER DILITHIUM! Also Harrison is vaguely foreboding, Jim's hair is magically perfect, and Spock is embarrassed EXCEPT NOT BECAUSE EMOTION = NO

Spock watches as Jim stares, wide-eyed, at the group of people that have just beamed down near the shelter. Spock's mother is among them, he notes, along with Lieutenant Harrison and the ship's first officer.

“Hello, dear,” Spock's mother says, and Spock fights the urge to roll his eyes—but she's not looking at him. Spock watches in surprise as his mother walks up to Jim and hugs him as if he were a long-lost son. Jim looks rather surprised as well. “I've commed your parents, and they are overjoyed to hear that we've found you.”

“My...oh.” Jim stands there, sort of dazed, unsure of what to do with all of the attention he's receiving.

“Mother, you are overwhelming him,” Spock says.

“It's fine,” Jim says. He puts his hand on Spock's shoulder as the rest of the party approaches, and before Spock hastily raises his shields he gets a rush of anxiety and fear mixed with excitement. They are predictable reactions to the situation, for a human.

“So you're not damaged in any way?” Number One asks, looking Spock up and down. Spock nods. “Good.” She turns to Jim. “I'm Number One. First Officer, _Enterprise_. We've met. You were three. Great to see you're alive. Anyway, I hate to say this, but as much as we want to get you back to Earth, we have to go through all the motions of a first contact mission. This society is advanced enough to engage in diplomatic talks, right?”

“Um...yeah,” Jim replies. “But--” Suddenly, one of the science officers that has been scanning the underbrush shouts a rather interesting Andorian expletive.

“Commander, there's a vein of dilithium running under this entire area,” xe says excitedly. “Look at these readings!”

“Who cares? We have a society to interact with,” Number One replies. The science officer frowns, and xir antennae twitch in a fashion that indicates disappointment. “If you wouldn't mind interpreting?” The human officer adds, looking at Jim, who nods. As Jim begins to lead them to the caves where he says they will find the Clickers, Spock notices Harrison lingering near the shuttle, scanning some rocks.

“Lieutenant, I need not be the one to remind you not to stay behind while the group moves on,” Spock states. Harrison looks up, seeming almost guilty.

“You're one to talk,” he says defensively. Spock would have attempted to explain the human concept of irony to the lieutenant, but then he Harrison waving to him before he moved on with the rest of the landing party, and his eyes narrow. However, he does not voice his concerns, as it would be unwise to engage in a confrontation with the lieutenant on an unknown planet in the middle of the forest.

“That is true. If you wish to remain here, I have no authority to suggest you do otherwise,” Spock says, giving Harrison a pointed glance before turning to catch up with the rest of the group.

 

…

 

His mother is understandably very upset. He knew it was only a matter of time before she would mention the subject of his lapse in judgment.

“I can't believe you went down on your very first away mission and got _lost_ in a _jungle._ If your father were here I can only _imagine_ what he'd say. Probably something about how getting yourself lost was _hardly_ logical.” Spock cringes.

“I conclude from your statement that you have informed Sarek of my...exploits.”

“Please, Spock. And get another one of those _looks_ when _he_ was the one who told me not to remove you from your studies in the first place? Not likely. You're lucky this time.” she says, shooting him a stern glance. "How lucky, I don't know, because YOU will be telling him YOURSELF when we get home."

“Mother, I am past eighteen Terran years of age, and therefore not accountable to parental figures. By Vulcan traditions, I became self-sufficient many years before that. Therefore, by all cultures that I may possibly belong to, I am considered an adult, and my actions do not concern either of you in anything more than an emotional sense.” Spock stares resolutely ahead. Instead of continuing to repress the emotion that is 'irritation' while his mother rolls her eyes, he focuses on Jim, who is leading the group of several linguists and scientists as he teaches them simple phrases in the natives' language. Spock notices that several of the younger members of the away team are looking at him in open admiration, not only for his language skills, but for his obvious physical attractiveness. Spock can tell that Jim matches the socially accepted norms for an attractive Terran—his jawline is within the accepted parameters, he is outgoing, his hair is—wait. Spock has to stop himself from freezing in his tracks.

“Jim,” he says abruptly, rushing to the front of the pack. The scientists and linguists part around him, obviously sensing the urgency in his voice.

“Yes, Spock?” Jim turns to him, looking somewhat relieved to see a face that is more familiar than the rest.

“How do you not have a beard?” Spock asks, as if it is the most important question he has ever thought of. Then he realizes that his question is somewhat illogical and in no way more important than what Jim was speaking about earlier. The rest of the crew seems to realize the same. Half of the away team erupts into giggling fits, while Jim looks confused.

“That's actually...um...you couldn't have asked this before?” Jim looks at Spock incredulously. Spock realizes that he has halted their entire mission for the sole object of determining the purpose and method of Jim's conspicuous lack of facial hair and very suitable haircut. He is not embarrassed because that would be illogical. However, his actions have been illogical, and it is an illogical question, which is regrettable. Spock averts his eyes, because Jim's are just too bright, but at least Jim isn't laughing like everyone else.

“That was not as important of a question as I first thought,” Spock says in a low voice.

“No, it's actually a cultural thing, with the Clickers, so it actually _is_ important." Spock looks at Jim, who winks. "Um...Hey, everyone!” Jim's raised voice causes a lull in the snickering and some excited conversation which Spock is probably not meant to hear but which concerns his possibly having 'a huge Vulcan crush' on Jim. He does not resent this allegation because to do so would be illogical. As soon as Jim has everyone's attention, he continues. “The Clickers are going to want to groom you. That's kind of a thing that they do. Naturally they grow hair kind of like we do, but it's a social thing for them to use their mandible-like-things to trim each other's fur to an acceptable length. So I'm just going to warn you about that now. Anyone with longer hair who cares about how it looks should probably refrain from getting too close or being too friendly.”

The laughter completely stops at that, while the Andorian in front of Spock nervously raises a hand to xir antennae. Spock looks at Jim, surprised that his question actually had any value. Jim grins at him, his hazel eyes so bright that Spock again is simultaneously unable to look at him but unable to stop looking. Jim really is very much within the norms for an attractive... Spock is attracted to Jim. That much is clear. It is logical. Jim's very even features and ability to survive disasters are signs of good genetics, which, logically, would make Spock see him as a good potential mate. Logically.

“Well, if you two are done staring at each other, Mr. Kirk can continue to lead us where we need to go. Cadet, stay up here. I'm keeping my eye on you.” Number One gives him a very pointed look, and Spock feels sufficiently chastised and does not wish to arouse her ire, because she can be very fierce when defied. He has seen Captain Pike 'get on her bad side,' as he puts it, and it was a very loud and somewhat unnerving experience. Spock lowers his head demurely, and they continue on their way, but Spock looks up multiple times only to meet Jim's eyes as he looks back. He even catches a smile that he is fairly sure is aimed solely at him.

 Spock is... _illogically_ pleased by the interaction.

…

 

 


	7. Something's Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clickers aren't big on sharing their dilithium. ALSO JIM'S WHOLE 'WEARING AN ANIMAL PELT AND ALSO EXTREMELY FIT' THING ISN'T MAKING SPOCK'S LIFE ANY EASIER.

The Clickers are fairly ambivalent towards them. Jim manages to explain Starfleet, and the Clickers are able to communicate that they have been aware of the existence of spaceships for some time but that they have absolutely no interest in further exploration. When Number Two mentions the subject of dilithium, the Clickers seem to be willing to give them a parting gift of as many crystals as they can personally carry, but beyond that they do not want to be involved in interstellar trade.

“They're fine with all of us being here, and they're glad I'm leaving—because as much as I'm not terribly annoying, I don't belong here—and they'll give you _some_ dilithium. But they're not into space. They're really advanced, actually—they _could_ live in a more advanced fashion, but they choose to live like simple hunter-gatherers. Big guy--xe says that aside from me, the only things the stars have to offer are war and hatred. So. That's...about all they've got to say about it,” Jim says, turning to Number One. She frowns.

“Well, that's...okay. Do they mind if we send linguists later to learn more about their culture?”

“About that. They are fine with possible colonists as long as they come in small numbers and there aren't more than fifty of them, but they really don't want anyone coming around just because they have dilthium.” The largest of the creatures, the one Jim had been communicating with, shambles off into the darkness of the caves, where many bright eyes glitter. The humans start to leave, using scanners and tricorders to light the way. The Clickers, it turns out, actually glow in the dark, and without their light, it will be difficult to find their way back to the surface.

“So there'll be no trading with this planet,” one of the ensigns sighs. “Too bad. These things are cool.”

“That strikes me as odd,” Harrison says, and Spock turns to see he has finally caught up with the rest of the party. “Why aren't they going to share the dilithium if they're not using it? Sounds like pure selfishness, in my book.”

“If you found out your fingernails were worth millions of credits to some alien race, and then suddenly a bunch of those aliens were hanging out with you all the time, wouldn't you be worried?” Jim smirks. Harrison gives him a look that is obviously hostile, but Jim seems to shrug it off. Spock worries that Jim is not used to human social cues after so long.

“Who is that?” Jim asks Spock in a whisper as they make their way back out of the caves.

“Lieutenant John Harrison,” Spock replies in hushed tones. “He is...a very...interesting individual.”

“I don't like him,” Jim says quietly, only to Spock, but he's grinning at the same time, and Spock has to stifle the urge to smile at Jim's frank statement.

“I find that other humans seem to view him as somewhat abrasive,” Spock replies. “Yet while many of the crew seem to view me similarly, they seem to dislike him more.”

“There are people who don't like you?” Jim looks at Spock, incredulous. Spock cannot control the rush of blood to his face but he can at _least_ be thankful for the relative darkness.

“Vulcans are very culturally different from many other Federation species. Our rejection of emotions can frighten or offend some.” Spock looks back to Jim, almost shy, but that's an _emotion_ and so therefore _no._

“Well, I don't know if this will make you feel any better, but--”

“Jim, I do not _feel_ anything, I am Vulcan--”

“--but the Clickers think you're great. They can see more colors than humans and they think you're a very aesthetically pleasing shade of green. Oh, and they also tried to congratulate me on finding a mate.” Jim chuckles. “I...uh...corrected them.”

“As they have never seen another humanoid, it is logical that they assumed...” Spock pauses. “They find me aesthetically pleasing?”

“Well, you are, so...” Spock's superior hearing can pick up the slight increase in the tempo of Jim's heartbeat and he suddenly feels very warm and also a bit confused. They reach the surface in silence, and as the landing party steps out into the sunlight, Number One pulls out her communicator.

“Number One to the Bridge. Captain, the natives aren't interested in trade, but they don't mind linguists or xenobiologists coming down to study their culture. I recommend we consult Starfleet and return to Earth before engaging in any further talks.” Pike's voice crackles over the atmospheric interference.

“Sounds like a plan.” Rolling her eyes at the captain's short reply, the first officer comms another part of the ship.

“Number One to Engineering. Ten to beam up. And could you guys maybe bring some actual pants? I have a feeling our most recently acquired passenger might be a bit distracting in the halls.” She gives Jim a look.

“What? Any clothes that weren't destroyed, I would have grown out of,” Jim replies. “Though, yes, pants might be a good idea,” he adds, looking down at the animal pelt he is wearing. Spock hopes with all his might that Jim will also be provided with a shirt. He is, indeed, very distracting. Of course, Spock can control himself. It's not like he's ogling Jim like some lovesick young cadet with an Orion professor. But he is very appreciative of Jim's anatomy...not that the skin-tight Starfleet issue uniform will make his life any easier, but at _least_ then Spock can just imagine Jim is a colleague. He can pretend Jim is not an extremely well-proportioned and attractive survivor of a major disaster with the strength and resourcefulness to survive alone on a planet for six years, a feat that is completely admirable and, though regrettable, a good quality for a potential mate. This would obviously explain Spock's desire to be close to him. Obviously.


	8. These Emotions I Never Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spock is VERY DISTRACTED and emotions are happening. also awkward(?) silence where spock kind of just wants to make out with jim but NO BECAUSE ILLOGICAL

 Number Two is right about Jim being very distracting. Many of the ensigns stare as they pass through the halls while Spock leads Jim to the quarters adjoining his. As a guest on the ship, Spock has been assigned quarters in a fairly deserted area where there are a few empty rooms, and as Jim has already become acquainted with him, Jim has been assigned a room close to his. Spock sees that Jim is glad they are situated near each other; he seems a bit mollified by the attention he receives, but he is also overwhelmed. 

“Six years with no humans in sight, and now they all want a piece of this action, and I have no idea what to do about it,” Jim jokes, following close behind Spock.

“I presume that you shall 'figure it out,' as Captain Pike would say.” Spock keys in the code for Jim's quarters. “Now you can pick an access code that only you will know. Certain individuals – such as the first officer, captain, and chief medical officer—have override codes, but I think you will find that you may have complete privacy if you wish.”

“Why would I want to be locked up? You can know my code if you want.” Spock does not outwardly react, though he finds it fascinating that Jim chooses to place trust and confidence in him, Spock, when he has a ship of over four hundred sociable, friendly, emotional humans to choose from.

“That will be unnecessary. Our rooms were originally intended for foreign officials from different planets and star systems, and so they have adjoining doors between them to allow communication between...” Spock trails off as he sees Jim's look of wonder as he steps through the open door.

“This is...wow. And there's...a bed. Wow.” Spock stands awkwardly in the doorway while Jim explores his new quarters.

“I shall leave you to acclimatize yourself to this new situation,” Spock says, stepping back.

“Hey, Spock?” He pauses, seeing Jim standing in the middle of the room. He looks a bit lost. “Yes, Jim?” Spock prompts, waiting.

“I just... This is all really... Thank you for being so...”

“I have done nothing that was not logical,” Spock asserts. “I assure you that anyone else in my position would have done the same...and it is you, I believe, who saved _me_. I would have been lost and possibly injured had you not intervened.” He looks down because Jim is just too emotional at the moment and it is very...jarring. Jim steps forward into Spock's space and Spock does not step away despite his immediate inner acknowledgment that to do so would be wise.

“I..." Jim starts, and for a moment Spock is so painfully aware of their proximity but tries to ignore it because humans obviously have very different definitions of 'personal space' and 'boundaries.' But then Jim sort of smirks, and Spock is extremely focused on his lips for a moment too long. It is absolutely illogical, and Spock is fairly sure that his attraction to Jim is completely immoral by both his and Starfleet's standards, because Jim has survived a catastrophic event and it is likely that he is not emotionally ready to handle the intense objectification that Spock really hopes he's not actually projecting right now.

"I believe I am expected to debrief with the rest of the away team," Spock says softly, because they are sort of just staring at each other and Jim obviously has no idea what he's going to say. He starts to leave, but something makes him turn back. "Am I right to anticipate continued conversation at a more appropriate time? Would 1500 hours be convenient?"

"As soon as I figure out when that is, I'll be sure to expect you at that time," Jim replies, looking somewhat relieved. "Do you play chess, Spock?" Spock cannot help but feel a spark of interest.

"I do," he answers. "I shall see you then." He mentally prepares himself for the onslaught of illogic that will come when he explains to his mother why he has taken so long, as she is expecting him to visit and tell her of his 'adventures.'


	9. Softly Tread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Amanda talk! Amanda is flawless. This is short. Sorry.

"So...Jim seems to have taken a shine to you," Amanda says carefully. Spock gives her that purposefully blank look he gives her when things like this come up. She knows it well. That time she and Sarek had to have the Vulcan Biology discussion with him...that was a difficult time. She recognizes this as Spock's 'I am uncomfortable and would like to please leave' face.

"I am the first humanoid he has had contact with in six years," Spock says, looking slightly to the left of Amanda's face. "It is logical that he has formed an emotional connection. He is human."

"I don't understand why you're having such an emotional reaction to my question," Amanda says, cross. "You got lost on an away mission. You could've _died_. And yet me commenting on your new friend is the hot-button issue."

"I did not get lost," Spock replies, because clarifying the truth about the away mission is much more important than answering such an illogical question. "I strayed behind, sighted what I believed to be signs of a dwelling--and I was correct--and signalled to the lead security officer that I had seen something."

"And?"

"Lieutenant Harrison indicated that he had seen me, but he must not have had time to alert the rest of the party before the rain started." Spock frowns before he can stop himself, but since he's only talking to his mother, who sometimes openly _encourages_ such displays, he lets it go. "I have an illogical suspicion, however, that the lieutenant did have sufficient time to notify the rest of the team that I had seen something, but that he for some reason chose not to do so." Amanda frowns.

"Are you implying that he just left you out there to get lost or killed or..." her blue eyes flash. "He's dead. No, he's worse than dead, he's...spending the rest of his time as a Starfleet officer FREEZING on Delta Vega."

"I am not implying anything," Spock interrupts. "There is no proof that he was anything other than simply negligent."

"I don't like him and I don't want him around you," Amanda says primly. Spock takes her quiet air of finality as a sign that their meeting is over.

"It would be most regrettable for you to use your power as a Terran ambassador for revenge," Spock says over his shoulder as he leaves. "I would be most honored if you exercised the restraint that I know you to be capable of."

 


	10. I Wanna Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock is not even a teacher at the academy in this universe but somehow that's happening anyway. also Spock and Uhura are still space besties (as they are in every universe)

Jim is staring at the screen, drawing out complicated equations.

"So this is right...right?" Spock glances over his shoulder.

"Have you adjusted for preliminary drag on entrance into the atmosphere of such a planet?" He knows that Jim has not, but he is being careful not to offend him. Others are easily offended by Spock's less emotional approach to correction. Spock has been teaching Jim the curriculum from Spock's first year at Starfleet Academy in a shortened state, because he expressed a desire to return to Earth with some education.

"Huh. Atmosphere. Yeah." Jim turns back to the padd, and Spock goes back to the survey results for the planet's potential dilithium yield. John Harrison is the author; his survey shows enormous potential for profit, but his disregard for the natives' wishes on the matter piques Spock's interest. Suddenly, Spock feels a hand on his shoulder and Jim sets his padd down on the desk. "Is this right, then?" Spock looks over Jim's diagram--an engineering project; Jim has been studying multiple fields in order to 'catch up'--and Jim glances at the survey.

"An adequate modification," Spock says, passing Jim's padd back. "You would do well to remove some of the aesthetic aspects to adjust for better aerodynamics."

"If aliens see some freaky orb coming at them, they're gonna think 'asteroid,' not 'shuttle.' Hey, isn't John Harrison that guy we hate?" Jim squints at the survey before Spock minimizes it quickly.

"Hatred is not only illogical, but it goes against the very core of Surak's teachings," Spock admonishes. Jim's hand has not left his shoulder, and Spock realizes immediately that those brilliant hazel eyes are looking directly into his. Spock attempts to control the rising flush in his cheeks.

"I don't like him either, Spock. Hey, no need to get all...green around the gills...wait, can I say that? Wait, sorry, that's appearance-based and totally--" Jim stumbles over his words. Spock raises a single dark eyebrow.

"If humans had a position of power with which to oppress Vulcans based on their looks, it would be offensive, as it would be if you were to make a similar remark about humans with differing genetics. No such oppressive system exists. Your remarks about my appearance are not unwelcome. In fact, I have often found the average human propensity for ignoring my heritage to be somewhat illogical." Spock really hopes he's not blushing extremely obviously. Optimism is logical if one is to survive. Hope is optimism.

"Oh," Jim says, looking relieved. "Is there pigment-based oppression in Vulcan's history? Is there a word for that, even?" Spock's lips twitch.

"As a half-human, discussing Vulcan's history of oppressing minorities is--my mother would call it 'a sore subject.' However, if you wish to study linguistics, I would not be opposed to teaching you Vulcan. Perhaps starting with a language more easy for humans--particularly those who speak Standard as a first language--would be better as your first choice." Jim nods eagerly. "I have a friend who specializes in Klingon."

Jim gasps. "Klingon? Hell yes."

"I will send her a message asking if she has time to meet with you," Spock says. He already knows that Cadet Uhura will enjoy Jim's optimistic willingness to learn. She has a reputation at the academy for being able to talk the antennae off an Andorian.

At least, that's what they say.

"Hey, so they're making me negotiate more with the Clickers about the dilithium later... Do you want to come?" Spock hesitates, thinking about Harrison's survey. Jim catches his pause and his features fall. "It's fine if you don't have time," he says. "I understand we've spent almost all our time together since I boarded the _Enterprise_. I mean, I think the last time we were apart was when I had that virtual meeting with my parents." Jim cringes. "That was a very emotional time. Thankfully, you didn't have to see it." Spock puts a reassuring hand on Jim's arm.

"Though I am concerned about the amount of time we have spent focusing on the dilithium rather than your return to Earth, I would be glad to attend the discussions with you." His shields are bombarded with Jim's glowing appreciation and admiration. Spock steels himself, but he has found that Jim responds positively to physical stimuli. He shows signs of improvement in his socialization with crewmembers aside from Spock when Spock is present and physically close to him, so Spock assumes that their proximity is beneficial and therefore necessary.

That doesn't mean Spock doesn't enjoy it, despite his efforts not to.

 


	11. Infinite Diversity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock has emotions.

Spock wakes from a dream that he chooses to ignore to hear his Padd buzzing at his bedside. He has a message from his mother, informing him that outside communications are down for the time being and asking if he intends to spend his entire time glued to Jim or if he would like to play some chess later. He realizes that he has neglected their usual games, but...Jim is a much better chess player than his mother, and he very rarely curses when Spock captures his pieces. In fact, Jim has even managed to beat him at chess, a feat which his mother has been unable to repeat since her first and only win when Spock was seven. This has not stopped her trying, however many Terran expletives she managed to accidentally teach him in the process.

Spock dresses quickly, still trying not to think about his subconscious reaction to Jim. Were he fully Vulcan, dreams would be a sign of a dangerous lapse in control; however, he has learned to embrace his human heritage somewhat. As a child he would deprive himself of sleep for days, refusing to acknowledge the fact that his physiology required more sleep than the average Vulcan. After dozing off in the middle of school and being sent home in disgrace, his mother had explained to him that he was only another example of infinite diversity in yet another of infinite combinations.

"You have all the positives and all the negatives of two worlds. Your father and I are very different--I need a lot of sleep, he needs very little. I rarely meditate, and he has to do it at least once a day or he starts acting like a robot. You need to accept that, even though you may choose to follow the path of one of your two cultures, you come from a family where it's not going to be possible for you to be all-Vulcan all the time."

Spock would never illogically ignore his human side again.

Now, he wishes he could, but he is forced to admit to himself that he is extremely attracted to Jim Kirk--not just physically, but on a personal level. Jim is kind, honest, eager to learn, personable with other humans, and an excellent chess player. He is also very physically attractive. And Spock is just going to have to get used to it.

 


	12. Man and Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more things occur. there is little plot. stuff will happen later but for now not much stuff happens. just characterization. this chapter is dedicated to hannah because reasons.

John Harrison is on the planet's surface far before them.

"What did they mean, exactly, 'as much as we can carry?'" he asks Jim almost immediately after they rematerialize. Spock tries not to feel irritation, but fails. He resolves to meditate later.

"Exactly that. Everyone from the original landing party can take one dilithium crystal in each hand. That's it." Jim gives Spock a long-suffering look as he is dragged away by a group of linguists and eager botanists wanting him to tell them as much as he can about some sort of plant that imitates sound patterns, and Spock catches Harrison giving him a calculated look.

"Lieutenant Harrison," Spock says in greeting, because Harrison's immediate query about dilithium left no room for typical human pleasantries. Spock's mother has assured him that, illogical though they may be, greetings are seen as an acknowledgment of existence and a sign of respect amongst humans of almost every culture. Harrison nods. "I read your essay on the potential for mining this morning. It was...fascinating." Harrison brightens almost imperceptibly, but Spock can hear his heartbeat increase, due to their proximity.

"It's amazing the quality and the scale of the dilithium veins," Harrison says. "I mean, it's...it's baffling, the scale of it all..."

"I surmised from your report that the possible profit margins are of similarly 'baffling' scale." Spock watches Harrison carefully.

"Don't even talk to me about the potential gain," he replies, glancing off into the distance as if to imply its truly staggering nature.

"It is regrettable that your report could not be relayed to Starfleet, due to the storm's interference," Spock mentions, glancing down at his Padd, wondering where Jim went. "Hopefully our communications will regain function shortly." Harrison is suddenly looking at Spock intently.

"Yes. It would be...regrettable...if something were to happen out here, what with us not being able to contact Starfleet at all. Good thing we were able to send that one message letting them know what has happening, or they might have sent the nearest ship to investigate." Harrison smirks. "It's fortunate we have such competent communications officers." Spock gives him the patented Amanda Grayson Look, with a single raised eyebrow. Spock is about to ask him to elaborate when Kirk rushes up to him.

"That botanist lady is so effing cute, Spock. I just took a picture of her with a plant for her to send back to her son when communications are up--apparently he's my age and he's got this huge thing for plants that make noises or something? I don't know but she's my new favorite crewmember. Should I start a vlog? "James T. Kirk: Return to Society." Has a nice ring. What do you think?" He's beaming like the Vulcan sun and Spock's heart is thrumming in his side.

"A short documentary on your return to Earth could reasonably be seen by humans as entertaining as well as informative." Jim slings an arm around Spock's shoulders.

"Spock, I love that you give me objective information, without corrupting it with emotional opinions." Spock allows himself to be led down the path towards the faint sound of cooing botanists and clicking plants, but he does not miss the glare Jim shoots Harrison over his shoulder.

 


	13. Come Take My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THERE'S KISSING BUT IT'S HAND KISSING SORRY  
> also sorry it's taken me so long to update, i'm going to college in august and things with high school and graduating and agh sorry  
> but here's a new chapterrrr

Spock is staring at the chessboard, somewhat defeated.

"You will have me beaten in two moves. I fail to see how you accomplish such advanced strategic planning when you cannot even wear a shirt for more than three hours at a time." Jim pouts.

"Spock, irritation is an emotion. Same with jealousy about my extremely toned physique." Spock freezes for a moment, thinking Jim has somehow felt his emotions when their hands brushed earlier, but then he remembers Kirk is human and frowns slightly.

"I am not jealous of your physique."

"Then why are you staring?" Jim asks, stretching, giving Spock a seductive look.

"Admiration and jealousy are different things." Spock is not blushing. He has slept for two hours and this has greatly improved his emotional control. Jim looks at him, eyes bright.

"So you're admiring?" Jim's heartbeat is elevated. "Like...just the visual, or...?"

"If you are asking on what levels I admire you, personally, there is far more than simple aesthetic appreciation on my part. You are deeply passionate, an excellent chess player, an admirable survivalist, and a very engaging conversational partner." Jim grins.

"Tell me more about how great I am. No, really, seriously." Spock gives him a long-suffering look.

"I once heard Ensign Z-739902-n express delight in your 'golden, godlike appearance,' despite his mention of your 'tragic deficit of appendages.' I believe that the other Xolotian ensigns were in agreement." Jim puts on an expression of false concern.

"Deficit? That's it, Spock. I'm growing another arm."

"I do not believe you are capable--" Spock starts, before Jim cuts him off with an elbow to the side.

"What about you? Do I have enough arms for you?" He winks. Spock hesitates.

"Jim, though I find your current amount of limbs to be satisfactory, I wish to dissuade you from engaging in your current area of inquiry. I find that my inability to grasp the nuances of what is and is not a sarcastic line of questioning tend to "make things awkward," which seems to make humans uncomfortable." Jim gapes at him.

"Spock...is my flirting making you uncomfortable?" Jim asks. Spock, to his credit, does not blush. This is a very good development.

"On the contrary, Jim. I quite enjoy your flirting. However I worry that I shall mistake it for something that it is not, and, in doing so, create tension in our friendship." Jim's jaw drops.

"WHAT? You--you--wait, are you saying--okay. Are you saying you're worried you'll take my flirting too seriously and that it will make _me_ act all weird, or are you worried that if you take it too seriously _you'll_ be all weird?"

"The composition of that sentence rendered it completely nonsensical. However," Spock pauses, searching for words. "I believe...that I have come to feel..." Oh no. That was the wrong word. But...the semantics of synonyms were too complicated for him to think about at the moment. "...a certain affection for you, which I believe to go beyond friendship," Jim opens his mouth to speak but Spock holds up a hand and continues. "And though I do not intend to pursue anything more than a platonic relationship, I have come to find that despite the human proclivity not to explain such things, it is much easier for both parties if the more emotionally involved of the two--or more, depending on the type of relationship--is open with--"

"Ugh--Spock--Stop talking," Jim growls finally. "What led you to believe you were more emotionally involved? Hello, my name's Jim Kirk, and I'm an illogical human, who has formed a deep emotional attachment to the first humanoid face he's seen in years, and that face just happens to belong to a Vulcan named Spock. Nice to meet you." Spock does not quite comprehend.

"We have already met?" he starts, but then Jim puts a finger to his lips. Though Spock knows this is a human gesture, meaning something very different than what it would on Vulcan, he is somewhat scandalized.

"Okay. Here's what's going on." Jim is saying all this, without moving his hand, and right now he is so close to Spock that he might as well be sitting on Spock's lap, and that is very distracting. "You're into me in a more-than-friends kind of way. I'm into you in basically every way possible. So that's not a problem. What _is_ a problem," Jim starts, his heretofore sunny expression replaced with a frown, "is that I don't think the army of therapists I'm seeing when I get back to Earth would agree that I'm ready for a relationship right now, especially because they might argue that I'm just forming an attachment to you on the unhealthy and shaky foundation of you being the person to find me. So we're just gonna have to postpone the 'more-than-friends' part of the relationship until we get back to Earth. Is that cool with you?" Jim asks, finally removing his hand from the vicinity of Spock's mouth, looking into his eyes with a painfully earnest expression.

"I find that quite...logical," Spock replies, and then Jim's eyes light up and he grabs Spock's hand and--they're kissing? That just happened. Spock makes a noise that can only be interpreted as "???"

"Sorry, is this okay?" Jim asks. "Like. Just once. Also, I resent you not telling me the whole thing about Vulcans and hands. Ensign T'byk saw me give you a high five and told me we were basically married." Spock is unable to respond. "And then we have to go back to being all platonic."

"Okay?" Spock is quite sure that it's much more than okay. "Yes."

 


	14. It's Yours To Claim It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't know if you've noticed but all the chapter titles are lyrics from the tarzan soundtrack and idk how well that's working out  
> also please enjoy this guest appearance of POV other than Spock! And guess whose POV it is???  
> hint: she's really hot and in TOS at one point she made out with Spock and also she's amazing and perfect  
> sorry this is just a really short interlude

The commander can see the starship from her chambers, they're that close. It never ceases to amaze her, the absolute ridiculousness of a Federation that cannot even cloak its ships. Had they mastered the technology--which they could have by now if they were just a little less sensitive about asking politely for resources from newly discovered planets--they would have known that Romulan vessels have been circling this particular planet for several Terran months. And, now that they have some cooperation from the ground, soon this particular commander will be--as her man on the ground says--filthy fucking rich.

She is the youngest to rise to her rank, and many have questioned her success, as one so young could hardly be trusted with so much responsibility. With the acquisition of this valuable resource--if she remains undetected by the Federation--she will be the youngest, but also one of the most successful commanders in the history of her people's enmity with the Federation.

Another thing the Federation is incredibly bad at: getting what they want.

Fortunately, Commander Charvanek has no qualms about taking it.

 


	15. So Close and Yet So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE BITCH I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME! it's a 2014 meme all the way from 2016. I'M BACK HOES AND I'M GAYER THAN EVER also I think Jim's onto something with his Romulan theory. Probably because I know what's going to happen. But whatever. ALso this entire fic is just phil collins' discography and I need to just cop to that fact so here's me, saying that phil collins inspires me to write spirk more than anything else.

"You know what I've been thinking about this whole time, but I just couldn't figure out?" Jim asks, looking up from the engineering simulation he's been trying to program. Spock glances at him. "Why the Clickers have this indication of 'spaceship', but occasionally they talk about some 'other spaceship'--basically they say 'spaceship over there.' I asked them what they meant, but they couldn't explain... And any Federation vessel I drew for them was just 'spaceship.'

"Perhaps they mean to differentiate between Federation vessels that they have had contact with and ones which they have not." Spock continues reading a very fascinating report on Orion vowels that his friend Nyota had sent him before communications went down.

"I don't think that's what they mean," Jim says, frowning. "I'll comm Lieutenant Tariq about it, she's on-planet right now. Maybe she could show them actual images of different ships and find out."

"Hm," Spock says, because that is somewhere between 'yes' and 'i do not care'. He has learned a lot about Terran nuances from spending so much time with Jim. His mother finds it hilarious.

 

...

 

"Okay, so Adina showed the Clickers some pictures of some starships, and guess what happens to be an 'other' starship?" Jim asks, bursting back into Spock's quarters, waving his padd in agitation. Spock frowns. He is much more interested in when they are going to have communication with Starfleet than he is in linguistics.

"I do not presume to know the results of her research. However, I would not be adverse to knowing them." Jim grimaces.

"You know what I mean." Then he shakes his head. "But that's not important right now! Ugh! What's important is that apparently, in Federation space, the Clickers have a word specifically designating a Romulan vessel. Coincidence? I think not." Jim draws Spock's attention to his padd, on which a video is playing of a young Lieutenant projecting holograms of various ships in front of the Clickers. They make the same sound each time, until a typical example of a Romulan scout ship appears.

"That is very suspicious," Spock replies, humoring him. "Have you sent these findings to the captain?"

"Yeah, but he's not answering any of my comms. He went planetside with Harrison a few hours ago." Suddenly Jim starts looking worried. "If Romulans have been scouting around this planet, it's only a matter of time before they send someone back here for the dilithium."

"That is highly likely," Spock admits. " _If_ they are aware of it."

"They're _Romulans_ ," Jim growls. "Trust me, they're _aware_." Spock is concerned. "With inter-stellar comms down, and that creepy creep down there with the Captain, I just know something isn't right. We need to go down there." 

"His name is Harrison, not creepy-creep. However, I agree that alerting Number One of your suspicions and suggesting a second away team beam down might be wise." They leave instantly, or rather Jim leaves instantly, followed shortly by Spock, who did not realize quite how agitated Jim was until he stormed out.

"Shit's suspicious," Jim mutters as he paces down the halls, heading to the nearest comm unit. "Don't like any of this. Don't like it." He realizes that he's reverting back to the way he spoke before he was able to communicate with the Clickers--the way he would've spoken if he was alone. He glances back at Spock, whose furrowed brows indicate that he's right there with Jim when it comes to suspicions. Jim's face softens a little bit. At least he's not by himself.


End file.
